Memory Of Age

You could scatter me that glance
That appeared like the unhappy ending
To a holiday romance,
Born of waves, washing over our toes
And laid to rest with a parting rose.
You can produce that smile in a mind
All bittersweet like a photo of an ex
Bookmarking a chapter
That neither of us has read.
I feel your dust in the folds of my wallet
As I fumble for change.
You're a memory of age.
And living's no longer the same.

Deciduous Conifer

This land once heralded the beauty of spring with a crowning that sprung
When the earth was turning and the time had come
It once threw away what it no longer wanted, to the floor was where it was flung
There it rotted and faded until what once was, was gone,
With colours turning seasons from green to brown all brittle and harsh
From hilltop to meadow, forest and marsh.
For time of year all we needed to do was stare up at you so tall
Now they sit there with your Scot's Pine and you ruin it all

Chainz (a rebuttal)

Should stay away from where he is not wanted and go back to tending his own petty little blog

Chainz

Woz 'ere

I'll make you

I write from a distance
And you zombies encroach
Like benevolent aliens
Take me to your worship point
I'll make you erupt.

Everything's a tragedy without a
Celebration to ponder on
And everyone's a liar.

I strike from a misprint
And you zombies enquire
Like dead living relations
Make me be your pressure point
I'll make you erupt.
I'll make you.

How I'm Singing

I often wondered, often wanted to say, what you meaned to me in words that play
In poem with words and musical time, but I haven't got the clarity and the talent to rhyme.
All I want is to shower you with praise, but the words wont come and the notes seem grey.
I just wish for once to be able to show with lyrical beauty the beauty I know.
But the ability to hide in chord change and faltering falsetto, Is beyond the few words I have gotten to grow.
I can't leave this space with nothing to give you, nothing to sing to you
So In words that I can use I give this to you, I know it's not my original plan
I love you and I'm singing it, from everywhere I can

Turning Finnish

The time of year is whenever you're reading this
The type of year is whatever you make it.
The person you are is the person you're with
And the Finnish you are means nothing.

A Certain Curtain

Falls without calling, causing nothing that's wanted but eternal harming.
Draws without telling, no loved ones to stop it, no time to halt mourning.
Can never be tied by sashes of science, nor religion will take away this finite meaning
A sure thing for certain this ghastly final curtain.
But don't let this stop you doing the one thing you can do, just carry on doing whatever makes you, you.

Valium

I don't suppose I know what that last life was all about,
Probably vitamins and wine, oh well.
We're merely caught in the light
Created by the diminishing sunshine.
I don't suppose I know what the moon was all about
Probably Valium and whiskey, oh well.

The Danger

Go to sleep and go to bed
The horses are all in your head
Keep the rain from falling,
She reads the warnings.

Go to work and hit the town
The forces are all in your bed
Keep the sun from rising
She reads the thing that makes me
Not work out what rhymes with rising

You know you love her
And you love her too
And so that girl
puts on her makeup
Just for you.

Sometimes I dream of reality
Most often when reality
Gives way to reality.

She won't get the better if me
She won't
Get the
Better
Of me.

She's a lover
That a perfect star
Died to realise me.
She's the danger.
She's the danger.

Nice

Little truths eliciting honest laughs
Eyes Interlocking in biological maths
Long hours waiting to once again
Bask In all the glory of one who knows your name
Worlds apart but for one pledge
That being together is better than teetering over the edge
An island is only an island if you look at it from the water
And from being alone is thrice as bad as anyone imagines it ought to
I thrived in being cynical, cyclical, and writing in the dark.
Until you proved that things can be nice and cast daylight on my heart

Touch The Fool

Sometimes, it just takes a moment to make you feel alive
These moments appear with the blink of an eye
If you cannot see them even right in front of you
Then congratualtions you have touched the fool.

Sometimes, in a quiet moment you question what is right
You question whether past or future can intrude with visionary light
Well if you let demons and clairvoyants hold your life by rule
Then my hat is certainly off, you have been played a fool.

Sometimes, moments are ruined, by a look or misplaced word
An uncomfortable silence where much worse things are heard.
But to the one who let's this moment easily deflate their cool
I say to say to that poor soul you have been made the fool.

Sometimes, these moment collide in an explosion of hearts and soul
And there's one last thing to do
It's to whisper that I Love You
Without ever, ever feeling a Fool.

A Stroll in the Country

GO OUT AND FIND OUT FOR YOURSELVES WHAT IT'S LIKE YOU SHUT IN!

The Tumbleweed Memories Alphabet Of The Alternative Part 7

Giallo

I know that's Academy Award winner Adrien Brody there, and I know you're thinking just how alternative can this be. But the Italian giallo (yellow) is a mainly forgotten genre, despite it's influence in many a mainstream project, and despite it's occasional resurrection it is very rarely mentioned outside of genre publications. From the off Giallo (yellow) is not a good film, but it allows me to discuss the latter day work of auteur Dario Argento whose past few projects have failed incredibly to match up to the standards set by Suspiria, Profondo Rosso and Tenebrae (Dario it would appear has caught SWS: Stevie Wonder Syndrome ). Giallo (yellow) looks flat compared to his previously flashy work, it looks like a cheap television film. The few glimpses of violence and action are shot in a surprisingly unimpressive manner for a director known for his flair for poetic violence! The film's plot about a world weary detective tracking down a YELLOW skinned killer is hackneyed to the point of being ridiculous and there are no real surprises, even the identity of the performer behind the killer is blatantly obvious. The main problem here is Brody, his performance as the detective borders on the comatose, with a throaty voice that somehow makes certain words disappear before you can understand them, this laconic attitude seems to actually rub off on the film and where there should be a sense of urgency there is only Brody, smoking a cigarette and watching the day go by, this is a major problem for a thriller! Argento is (or based on this evidence; was) a talented director, but his interest here seems severely lacking, it's a shame because parts of it are entertaining, just all for the wrong reasons.

*just in case you didn't know Giallo is Italian for Yellow, also the name for a series of spectacularly trashy, wonderfully playful thrillers in the seventies and eighties.

One Needs

The words will not come
To tell you what it was
That changed me, that made me.
The words will not be right
To say to you
That which I see
The words will not be enough
To make it clear
That I'm your's till the end.
The words just will not come
To hard to say
That word, those words.

Potential Potato Potential

Turkey Mash with a hint of snow flakes
Painted faces and cardboard smiles
Is it really getting here
That holly jolly time of year?
Could my misery be masked by another festive cheer
Or Mistletoe in an empty room mocking me in both ears
Will tinsel work to hang one's neck
Shall crackers mask the sound of backs that break
I always feel this way when Christ Mass comes to play
Because It's Christmas on the horizon and I'm too Ebenezer to stay

Celebrity In A Copse (A Farce For Two Or More Players)

There were celebrities in a copse and one was heard to bray
"I am so rich and famous you must care what I say."

Then from behind a Alder, a voice was heard to sneer
" If that you say is so much truth then why is it you are here?"

Turning with eyes of envy the celebrity who had yet to define their fame
replied with lips a tremble "Because I have a name"

The noise behind the deciduous growth laughed with both arms full
and retorted " So do I but you don't see me parading around the leaf litter with self styled phobias preening like a fairy on a weekend just to tell seventeen more people what it is so that they'll tell their chums."

And being of low self esteem the celebrity with a name
went silent and vanished onto the television again.

Colourful Down

Personal information I never asked you to have.
Ridiculous secrets that never bother if I'm mad.
User accounts and words that mount on high
Oh High.
I wonder how you get it, got it not good
I blundered and you saw it
Never once having to draw blood
My day are now marred by the terror that is hence
You've stolen my ebay password and bid above fifty pence.

Social Standing

You are my new situation
And I guess you won't let me
Press certain keys.
I'm a hobo, with a red face, looking at an orange moon
And the blue sea takes my memories
You are my new situation
And I don't suppose you'll let me
Press particular keys.
I'm a multi-trillionaire who bought a cloud
And at 6am each day I make it rain on me.
And I don't expect you'll let me
Press the keys.

The End Of

Frame this moment
And hang it on your wall
In years to come
It'll help you to recall
The moment
Five minutes after we declared our love,
And four minutes from a break-up.
The end of.
The end of.
The end of.

Z 2 A D

Careful my love
Or you'll end up
Fodder for slugs
and worms and
Various bugs.
You'll be
Z 2 A D, it's frightening
Like a man struck down
By lightning.

I Carry Wires

I carry wires
In case I need wires.
A car could break down
Or a person
Or a robot of me.
I carry wires in a case
Of wires.
For a thought could need
A jumpstart
Or a car could break down
Or a robot could
Begin malfunctioning.
I carry wires.

The Ghost Behind The Door

The ghost behind the door won’t let her out to play –
It keeps her shut inside her room all day
Drifting through the keyhole as she sleeps,
Its presence makes her wail and weep.

The ghost behind the door won't free her from her chains –
It forces her to watch the wind and rain
Spilling down the window as it creeps
Beneath her where the floorboards creak.

The ghost behind the door will not abide her sweet relief –
It forces her to wallow in her grief
Haunted by the memories of before,
Of the guy behind the ghost behind the door.

Status Update

Just In Case You Were Wondering

Just In Case You Hadn't Heard

I'm Happy To Interrupt Your Busy Little World

I Have To Insist That You Know This Today

Daniel Stairmaster Has Nothing Important To Say

So Many Moons

You arrive at a Tumbleweed,
And what do you see?
Some words, some thoughts, some dreams never made.
You come to see Memories
And how do you tell?
What was real, what was fable, what was an act never played.

So what you must ask, what you must do
If the problem of knowing is too hard to move
Is answer a question with thoughts made true
Just what do Tumbleweed Memories mean without you.

White Background

My playground is darkness
and an alphabetical blade
It cuts white marks slashing,
hashing and against the black words are made
But what I want you to see
What I want to say
Is the words in the white background
The words beneath my playground

Shifting Temples

The last time I remembered what I tried to forget
I forgot to recall the time I would not regret
Losing my memories in front of my face
In a box with no lock in an obvious place
I know that it was there I know what was inside
But I cannot remember why I forgot it and I lied
So I think and I try to put it on hold
This memory that I know should never be told.

Wanted: Dead or Alive

It is with a heavy heart that I must inform all you Tumblers out there that I think I may have lost The Zpiral, i had him the other week but I was cleaning out my pantry and I think he got lost amidst a pile of boxes of Smash. I ask you all out there to help me find him, the blog just isn't the same without his intensity. Below is an (alleged) artists impression to help with your search.

The Fifth The Fifth The Fifth

Sir Robert Catesby
John Wright
Thomas Wintour
Thomas Percy
Guy Fawkes
Robert Keyes
Thomas Bates
Robert Wintour
Christopher Wright
John Grant
Sir Ambrose Rookwood
Sir Everard Digby
Francis Tresham

...enjoy your sparklers.

It's all too far to be

The issue of distance
The sights I want to see blurred by the natural curvature of the earth.
The problem of distance
The place I want to be married by an inconvenience.
The disappointment of distance
The silence between two who cannot hear for the miles and the acres.
The pity of distance
The wondering and pondering of half hearted strangers
The beauty of distance
The knowledge that you can always be closer

Little Dipper

Losing myself in the wilderness wasn't a plan
In the dark truth of day it wasn't even clever
For being alone just saved me from that man
That lived inside me wanting for never

It wasn't love that cast me aside, nor even that girl
The fault lay with no one that I took up the blues
The one to blame was staring blankly at the world,
But you already know it's me, it's not headline news.

So years go by to everyone but me
They move on move up drifting further away
Just one thing remained rooted like a tree
It was time to arise and no longer be afraid of being free.

For whatever may come, whatever we do
These moments are stardust, wishes come true
I'm no longer terrified of being me or seeing you
And in the gaps in between what was dead, now is new.

When the days grow short and the night towers high
I'm no longer scared of shadows or sound of the cry
Of demons with secrets of what once had died
I can see that next sunrise in the gleam in your eyes.

The Real Worth Of Blogging

Ynnuf tn'si sdrawkcab gniklat

Yonem ruoy naem tn'seod neerg gnieb

Looc uoy ekam tn'seod siht gnitalsnart

Ressot a uoy sekam tsuj ti

Forewarned is Four Arms

I don't know if anyone out there sneaking through cyperspace under the guise of a member of the human race is aware, I've been adding and dividing both number and letters, searching arcane texts from 1990's mobile phones and deciphering barcodes, all this Dan Brown like investigation has led me to a shocking revealtion, one which none of us can ignore.... NONE OF US.
In just fifty three short days, well actually fifty three normal days it will be bloody Christmas Day, someone hide the tinsel please.

Tyranosaurus Necks

You see that title, you see, indeed.
It's twisted tomfoolery, so funny, Indeed.
But when it's done, it's these words indeed
That paired together mean nothing.
Indeed.